Flasher: Be Careful What You Ask For

“Close your eyes and guess your present.”

“A pony?”

“Nope.” My legs goosepimpled in the cool Christmas morning air when she pulled off the blanket.

“A plastic rocket?”

“Last chance,” she murmured. I heard her sip something.


Without warning she took me deep into her wet and unreasonably hot mouth. I opened my eyes to see her bent over my waist with a cup of tea in one hand and me in the other.

“Just what I wanted!” I exclaimed happily. She smiled around me and began a slow, insistent motion. “Tea!”

And that’s where this scar came from.

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